


Still Hungry?

by xTheLittleOne



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Furry porn with a smaller dom guys, M/M, PWP, Petstuck, Petstuck Sollux, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Slave Karkat, dub-con, implied rape, slavestuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 11:27:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8160503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xTheLittleOne/pseuds/xTheLittleOne
Summary: Idea originally stemming from a failed match on MSPARP, Sollux is a sub-terranian pet troll living under the care of the Ampora family. He sometimes cares for the slave kept in the lower floors, but he decided he wanted to give him a try too.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I should honestly be ashamed that I wrote this.

 

Your name is Sollux Captor, and you are a subterranian troll. Okay, so subterranian is an umbrella term for the lesser species of trolls kept as pets. Your particular breed is arboreal. That means fuck all when your life is bound to the Ampora manor. The Amporas aren't... _horrible_ as masters go, you suppose. You could have a lot worse. You're fed properly, brushed, and the youngest lets you sleep with him at night even if during the day you can't get along. At least, they're not horrible to _you_.

 

In your hands, well paws really, is a dish. It looks honestly more like a dog bowl than something a top troll (the dominant troll species) would eat out of and it was lined with kitchen scraps rather than an actual meal, but that's what it was. You were the Ampora manor pet, and your job was to care for the Ampora manor slave. Even a slave ranks below a mere pet, but you can't help but feel a bit of pity when those nubby horns come into view, the chain around his neck getting taut as he shows interest in the food you're bringing. You wish you could say you were allowed to call Karkat a friend, but he was little more than a tool for the pleasure of the Ampora family. At least you used his name instead of “mutantblooded filth.” Eh, mostly, anyway.

 

“I brought your food, KK.”

 

“Thank you, Sollux.... I really wish they'd give more food.”

 

He was honestly pitiful to you, and not in the diamonds way. But he was alive. He should be grateful. He had a place to piss and a place to sleep, and was fed twice a day. As a pet you understood subservience. By this time it was programmed into you. But to this troll? No, it was a punishment. All the Amporas used him for was sex, at least. There were worse tools to be. Top trolls who were psionics like you got the worst kinds of deals you could think of, but thankfully the mutation was much weaker in pets. You couldn't pilot so much as a toy scuttlebuggy for any length of time. Passing the bowl to the ground-sitting troll, you shrug.

 

“Eh. You're getting ath much ath I get.”

 

Which, compared to the differences in sizes here, is not a good argument. But it's keeping Karkat alive, isn't it? As you sit and wait for his shaky hands to finish consuming the food from the bowl, your ears swivel forward, realizing you can hear a low, quiet buzzing. Your gaze shifts down as you try to pinpoint the noise, and you realize Karkat's hips are squirming slightly under that loose tunic of his. Your split tail twitches thoughtfully. No wonder the scent of hormones was still so thick down here. None of the masters had been down here in at least two hours.

 

“They left it in again, didn't they?”

 

“A-ah... yeah.”

 

Normally when that happened, you told one of the servants. It wasn't your job to take care of those particular needs of a slave. But today, yeah, today in particular, you wanted to use the fucking tool, because damnit you outranked him. You'd always wanted to try, and the Amporas never used you as  _that_ kind of pet, so that left the slave Karkat as your only option. And the poor troll had been stuck with a vibrating sheath plug that his arm chains were too short to allow him to remove himself. You should probably lend him a paw, no? Because it's just as you said. This slave wasn't your friend.

 

“Go thit in your cthair. I'll get it out.”

 

Karkat put his empty dish down, staring at you. Maybe you looked a little smug, who knows. Normally you never really touched him yourself aside from providing some company to keep him from going out of his pan when he wasn't being “used”. And even that was normal pet contact. You bump against him, he pets your head or gives a scritch behind your ears for showing kindness. You could probably tell what he was thinking. His current life was demeaning enough, he didn't want a pet troll to get a hold of him. But he also seemed to come to the conclusion that you were a better option. 

 

“Fuck, whatever. Okay.”

 

And he goes to his chair. Pulls up his tunic. Sits, and waits. He's not looking at you, not directly. The red in his face is from humiliation, you're sure. A mutant red far off the spectrum. It's a topic of ridicule among the Amporas and the servants, but honestly, you think it's a pretty color. You never cared much for blood. Slipping around behind the chair, you find his wrists and secure them with his chain before he has a chance to ask what the fuck you were doing.

 

“What the fuck are you doing?”

 

There's no venom in his question. It feels like there should be, but backtalk was beaten out of him. It's weariness and uncertainty in his voice now. He knows doing anything to you is like harming the youngest son himself. You're technically the lower life form here (in their books, the intolerant assholes), but you're the one in the position of power, and damn if that didn't make your yellow blood thrum.

 

“Thtrethh relief,” you comment, and you can hear him suck in that breath. It was a simple lie but it made your intentions perfectly clear, and suddenly he wasn't very happy to be in that chair, glowering down at you with a scowl as you came back around front, hands on his knees. His legs drew closer together, despite the low buzz coming from within. From this close you could smell him, and it made you throb. You may have been a subspecies, a smaller creature coated in fur with paws, but you were still a troll, hatched from an egg just as Karkat was. Pets were a more convenient solution than pure slaughter for your kind. At least that's what the highbloods decided. And even though you were just a yellow, you were still higher than this mutant red, and you forced his legs apart.

 

Honestly, you'd had better plans in mind ever since he'd said he wanted more to eat. You were going to be good on your word and take the plug out, careful claws avoiding touching the slickness around his sheath and nook. There was a dial, you cranked it to the right to turn the device off but merely turned it up instead, forcing what no doubt was an involuntary hip buck and a loud noise from the larger troll. Another turn the other way and it was off, already being tugged free. It came loose with a wet  _pop_ , a thick red bulge following behind lazily, spilling out in its relief for freedom, genetic material from a previous pailing accompanying. It made your nose wrinkle a bit. Your masters hated this red, didn't they, to do this to him. The toy was set aside, and you hauled yourself up into his lap to get a good look at that mortified and angry face.

 

As a pet, you didn't need clothes. Your fur was thick enough in the areas that mattered, the only bare patches being your grub scars. You did wear a shirt that bore your own sign though, and a collar that marked you as Ampora property. So it was really tempting to simply sit once you got in his lap, to let his bulge coax your own out, a split-end oddity that came with your hatchsign. But you didn't. You instead stood on the arms of the chair which brought your nookslit dangerously close to face level, and the slave decided that wow, he's kind of not okay with this. But hey, you weren't going to hurt him. You've seen some of the wounds the eldest troll in this family left on him. That wasn't you.

 

“You thaid you were thtill hungry, right?”

 

His teeth are bared, and he's looking anywhere but directly in front of him before his red eyes rise up to meet yours. He gives a growl and answers a gruff “yeah?” without even opening his jaw. You weren't supposed to give him more food, but after this, you supposed you could sneak something from the kitchens. Your question had a different purpose.

 

“Then open wide and eat my nook.”

 

His mouth did open, but it looked like the start of obscenities rather than obedience. But it was open. Grabbing his horns to pull his head back, you thrust your hips forward, forcing your damp slit over his lips, causing him to make a noise. But he knows the drill. Throwing you off would get him beaten, though you wouldn't have told if he did. The heat without friction alone feels amazing enough to make your bent legs wobble, but when you feel a hot tongue slip inside you, you positively  _sing_ , hands wrapped tight to the chipped nubby horns. Once you get control of yourself one hand dips between your legs, spreading the furred lips of your nook so he can reach the slick insides. You know he cooperates because the sooner you get off the sooner you'll leave him alone, and that thought does nothing to deter you from grinding down into his lips and chin, a cacophony of noises leaving your throat

 

Under this attention it doesn't take long for your bulge to spill from your sheath, leaving damp honey-colored wet patches on the troll's face under you. The sound he made was one of annoyane, the two split ends feeling on his facial features. With it out, though, your gears shifted, and you pulled your hips back enough to push your bulge right into that still-open mouth, the warm tongue and threat of teeth lighting your insides on fire. You were absolutely fucking his face now, grinding your nook to his chin every time you pushed in, feeling a little satisfaction in making him gag. The way his practiced tongue sucks your bulge gets you to climax faster than you might have liked, but you don't care, not even pulling out as your genetic material spills at the back of his tongue.

 

When you do pull out, thick yellow spills from Karkat's lips. He appears to have swallowed at least most of your material, but not all of it, and your wobbly knees make you slide down into his lap,his bulge pinned under your weight. You can feel it undulate from its pinched spot, and almost consider if you should do something about it. Return the favor so he can get off too or something? That felt absolutely  _amazing_ , why hadn't you—

 

“And here I thought,” Karkat's voice was rough, almost a creak, but still out-of-characterly soft enough to make you look at his face despite your haze, “that out of all the horrible hoofbeast manure this world could shit out at me, I could at least trust the family _pet_ to be my friend. Guess I was wrong there, too.”

 

He didn't say a whole lot, but it was plenty to sober you and chase the remaining dregs of those good feelings away. He looked utterly defeated, and without a word, you slid off of him, ducking behind the chair to undo his chains and let him free. You shouldn't feel guilty about this, but you do. It takes you a moment to find your voice, but when you do, you only say one thing before running off, not looking back.

 

“I'll talk two the lady in the kitchen about getting you more food.”

 

 


End file.
